The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-01-12

! VI PiOOQ Triumph I1cI trust IN 1lQl
was sustained she had never distrusted
his worth, and in her hand she held the
proud power of crushing every doubt
that her father might have had. Merit
TO which the highest and purest in the
land bore such testimony could never
again become the subject of dispute.
She returned to Mr.. Whitney. The
generous enthusiasm that wholly possess
ed her beamed in every lineament of a
face lovely in itself, but most remark.
able for a quick aud brilliant expression
seldom equaled in the human counte
nance.
"Mr. Whitney, may l retain these
only short time? Ny father-he will
be pleased 10 see them"
Myra was petite and slight in her
person, almost as fairy. As she stood
/ clasping the letters between her hands,
aud with her eyes uplifted toward him,
those eyes, so brilliant with every feel
ing of the heart, a prettier contrast with
| his tall and stately form could not we'd
be imagined.
Certainly; do with them as you
please" he said; "but you must not
allow your father to suppose that |
exhibit them for osteRtation.
"Oh, he will not think thatl' cried
Myra, extending her hand, for her guest
was about TO take his leave. "He will
never think anything that is not noble
and good of you, am sure"
To morrow, then-to-morrow | will
call for the letters
"Yes, tomorrow" replied Myra; and
while servant opened the door for her
guest, she entered her fathers study.
| Mr.. d. was seated by his escritoire,
reading some papers He looked up as
Myra entered, and smiled kindly upon
| her.
What visitor have you had p he in
quired, folding up the paper in his
| hand. did | not hear some one go
out moment sincep
Yes, sir; it was Mr.. Whitney,
Mr.. ID. tossed the paper he held upon
the escritoire, and his brow contracted
Mr. Whitney again Have | not
told you, Myra. that no man of whose
character | am not well informed shall
visit my house? How can you thus
receive person of whom you know
nothing?'
"But, papa, do know all about him,
now, and so may you; only read these
letters, and you will find that his family
is as good as ours; his character ire
proachable; his position every ything that
can warrant the acquaintance he has
sought.
Mr.. d. took the letters very coldly,
and without another word proceeded to
read them. Myra watched his counte-
nance with a palpitating heart. The
frown remained immovable on his fore
!, Ia x-ar1 ,f
its stern expression. Coldly and delib-
erately he read the letters through; laid
| them down one by one, and then placing
his hand upon the parcel, turned to his
daughter.
"What proof have we that these are
not forgeries ?'' he said.
Myra's heart swelled Indignantly. She
could hardly force herself to answer
1t seemed as if her father had deter
mined to receive no evidence in favor of
the man, against whom he had taken
a prejudice that, to her warm nature,
seemed most unjust and causeless.
'The handwriting, theautographs, are
they not genuine? are they not suffi-
cient?"
Mr.. d. took up one of the letters and
examined it closely.
THE letters may be genuine; but
what proof have we that this young
man came by them honorably-in short,
that his name is Whitney, or that he is
at all the person for whom he represents
himself?'
"Oh, papa, this is too much Only
see this young gentleman yourself, and
then Judge ii he can be suspected of OBJ
tanning those letters by dishonorable
means"
Myra waited for some answer to her
appeal, bat he coldty took up the paper
he had been reading as she came in,
and seemed to cast the subject of con-
versation from his mind. Myra went
TO her chamber with heavy heart; she
felt chilled and hurt by her fathers
coldness; perhaps, too, there was in her
heart feeling of disappointment re-
garding Whitney also.
In the slight mystery that had, up to
that day, enveloped him, her ardent
fancy had found something for the i'm
| nation TO dwell upon. Ia the generosity
of her youth she had rather hoped that
ne might prove one of those rare
geuiuses that struggle from an obscure
origin and through poverty, to the in
tellectual and moral emnence which
| alone she priced, and which s1e was
| certain ne mad attained.
Perhaps some vague fancy of relieV-
| iEg his poverty by the wealth which, as
her fathers heiress, she must one day
possess, had Termed part of the day
dreams which of late had haunted her.
Certain t is that sensation of regret
mingled with the sadness that her
fathers settled disapprobation had cast
upon her spirits. She felt almost grieved
by the proof that, even as friend for
she had not allowed her thoughts to
range beyond that gentle character
| Whitney, from his worldly position,
would never require sacrifice from
| her.
The next day Whitney called again
called to take leave. He was about re-
turning to his native State, and had
only moment in which 20 utter thanks
and farewell to the friends whose kind
ness he should never cease to remember
with gratitude.
In few months-it might be weeks
he would again visit Philadelphia, and
to renew the acquaintance he had made
would be one OF his sweetest hopes till
| then.
/ Myrs heard all this with that quiet
and gentle dignity which no surprise
could wholly conquer.
She saw that her guest was agitated,
that he was not taking leave of her with
| the indifference of common acquaint-
ance; and with that deep trust which
true affection gives to the heart, her
| thoughts turned to the future. A few
broken sentences passed between them
and then Myra went to her father for
the letters that be had locked in his
escritoire the day before.
Il will bring the letters myself" was
the cold reply which was given to her
request, and Myra returned to the draw
ing room p&le and agitated. for there
was something in her fathers manner
that filed her with vague appreLen-
sion.
A few moments elapsed, and then
measured footsteps in the ball made the
young girls heart beat quick as she lis
tened.
| They approached the drawing-room
door; it was opened, and with cold
and stately pollteness, Mr.. d. entered
holding the letters in his hand He
approached Mr. Whitney, who had risen
to receive him, and now resumed hi.
seat.
i ASir,' he said, gravely drawing chail
and seating himself opposite to the youpl
man, there are the letters with which
you have honored me; they are perfectly
satisfactory"
There was something so chill ant
cutting in the measured tones and un
bending courtesy with which this wa
said, that it had all the effect of an iDsui
without yielding an excuse for resent
ment